Read The Fine Print

There was a period of time when I came in specifically to schedule flights for Missy.  Here I am, this “newbie” thinking I am going to learn everything about the whole commercial production business, and instead I am looking up flight info for some terrible human being who changes her mind every three hours thus, starting the whole searching process all over for me. 

Finding the cheapest flight, on a certain day and time, is not usually a difficult task.  However, for Missy, everything is a lot more complicated than it needs to be.  For three weeks straight, my job is to find very specific tickets and put all the info into a very specific template that really makes no sense to anyone, except her.  That is until she yells at me or Doug about how she needs to return on an afternoon flight instead of a red eye or needs to leave in three days instead of next Tuesday.  There I am, at square one, yet again, looking for two, non-stop tickets, from LAX to O’Hare and from O’Hare to JFK and from JFK back to LAX.  Except she is not going to take this flight; she is going to change her mind several times and I am going to spend an entire day searching for useless information.

I could have killed Doug.  I mean, was there nothing else for me to do?   

By the third week, Doug IM’d me the necessary info I would need to book Missy’s flight–I don’t think he had the heart to ask it anymore, he could only type it.  Having researched flight information for weeks, one would think that she may have actually gotten on a plane and perhaps left town, no?  Not once.  At this point, I am convinced, this is a test.  Doug is seriously fucking with me.  No way, am I not studying for my midterm for this shit?!  If this goes on, I am going to quit.

At about midday on the third week of “flight research,” Doug looks up, notices how hard I am working and asks, “How you doing, kiddo? Why don’t you get up and walk around for a bit?”

Sarcastically, I reply, “Oh, I’m wonderful, I love looking up flight info for Missy-lini over there!”

Before I can vent my frustrations, he sees that I am about ready to explode and says, “Let’s take a cigarette break.” 

We walk out to the steps and I am furious.  He plays that Oh, I’m such a cool boss, you can ask me anything, I’m here to help role so good.  Bullshit!  “I know that I came into this as someone who doesn’t know jack about this industry, but I hardly remember unnecessary tedious tasks for unruly individuals who change their minds every ten seconds, being part of the job description!  I can’t do this anymore!” 

Because he is so freakin’ cool, he flashes me a confused look of concern, and I could just kill him for it.  “I am not ‘booking’ one more damn flight for her!  I am simply incapable of wasting my precious time for flights that are never going to be taken.  I won’t do it.  This may come as a surprise to you, Doug, but I am here to learn something of value, not to play the fool for…” 

With a look that Obi Wan would give to Luke, he puts his hand on my shoulder, with that fuckin’ cigarette hanging from his mouth, and says, “That part of the job description was in the fine print.  But if it upsets you that bad, we’ll make the other intern do it from now on.  Besides, her English is not so good, and you transcribe the calls better.”